


The Tide of the City // The Midnight Sky

by dreamofyou (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band), Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Band, Confessions, Confusion, Don't copy to another site, Fanfiction, Fluff, Harry Styles - Freeform, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Imagination, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Larry Stylinson Is Real, M/M, Mental Health Issues, One Direction One Shot, One Shot, Poetry, Short, Short One Shot, city, different, imaginary, larry - Freeform, larry stylinson - Freeform, mind, one direction - Freeform, what even is this?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26006704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/dreamofyou
Summary: Harry decides to take a walk around the city to clear his mind and meets Louis who is interested for some reason interested in Harry's well-being.After a walk, secrets are revealed and both parties find new things out, some far more shocking than others.
Relationships: Harry Styles & Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	The Tide of the City // The Midnight Sky

**Author's Note:**

> so this is what happens when i'm extremely sleep deprived and hear a sad song while reading my old writings

Harry Styles hated everything about his life, but he hated how people treated others the most. There was literally nothing he could do about it, but the fact that he had to witness so many people get hurt every day made him want to throw up, to say the least.

"I'm going out, Mom," he said, not leaving her the time to object or ask any questions. He grabbed his coat and left, carefully closing the door behind him as to not disturb his sister Gemma who was studying for an exam she had soon.

He envied how easily she fit into the world and didn't care much for what others did, while he, on the other hand, took interest in every little thing that went on around him. This sometimes inspired him to write little poems, and sometimes even songs, about these things. His sister found them once, but he caught her and after that, he kept the little notebook with him as to not let anyone else see what he wrote.

Harry didn't know where he was going, but he knew that he couldn't stay at home, knowing that his neighbors fought without ceasing and he couldn't do anything about it. Everyone that ever talked to him took him for oversensitive, but in reality, he was very far from that.

He was just aware of the world and how people in it worked. Most people somehow couldn't tell that being mistreated made people unhappy and nobody liked being sad. But Harry could, and that made the world more real and far more difficult for him than for others.

His phone chimed a few times, but he quickly turned it off, not wanting to be disturbed in any way while doing absolutely nothing.

Styles often wished that there could be a way to escape his own thoughts, especially since it was those thoughts that made Harry seem sensitive sometimes. If only there was a way to stop them from invading his mind and make him rethink everything he ever did.

"Woah, you look pretty confused. Are you a tourist?" asked a voice from behind, and Harry quickly turned to face the stranger.

"No, I'm just thinking about something."

"That's alright, just watch where you're going. I wouldn't want you to get run over by a car or something," said the stranger, making a thought appear in Harry's head.

This stranger seems to care for me as much as I care for others, and he seems to tell me about it so carelessly, which is something I could never do, no matter the situation. He's a much better human being than I am, but that doesn't make me bad, it just makes me not the best. Which is exactly what I want, thought Styles to himself.

Harry wondered if the stranger's mind contained the same thoughts as his and what he did to quiet them down.

"I'm Harry," he said out of the blue, unsure as to why he did so.

"I'm Louis," introduced himself the not-so-stranger. "So, where are you headed, Harry?"

"I'm just walking around and then if anything actually gets my attention, I'll stop there and see what happens."

"That doesn't sound like much of a plan, but plans suck. Is it too straight forward if I ask if I may walk with you?" asked the other boy, tapping his bag rhythmically, but Harry couldn't tell if the boy was just trying to occupy himself or if he was doing so because he was nervous.

Harry decided to stop analyzing his new acquaintance and answer. "Yeah, that works for me. I would love to have some company anyway."

"It's settled then," said Louis. "I'm walking with you."

Harry started to walk and it took the other boy a few seconds before starting to walk too, but the latter quickly caught up to Harry and the two started walking side by side.

"So, Harry, what makes you go into the city at almost midnight without a friend by your side? Because it doesn't really look like you're drunk and it doesn't look like you're crazy. Do you just like the thrill of the possibility of being murdered in the middle of a street at night?" asked Louis sarcastically, making Harry chuckle.

"I doubt that I could tell you if I'm crazy or not, but I can say that I had enough of everything and decided to clear my mind for a bit."

"Why the city though?" insisted the boy. "There are so many other places that you could go to and out of all of them you chose the city."

"I like to be in spaces where there are other people. They relax me and the thought of being alone is just terrifying. Being alone would be my personal hell; just the thought of being alone is hell."

"Personally, I don't like crowds. But I don't like being all alone either. I just need the important people in my life and I'll survive," explained the boy, then suddenly stopped. "Come here, I'm showing you a place."

The two turned into a small alley that Styles had never been to before but there was an oddly familiar feeling to it. "I've never been here," he said, making Louis chuckle.

"Well, people don't usually stumble into small alleys on midnight walks, but it is a nice one and the fact that it's so small strangely comforts me."

"What do you mean?"

"It just makes me think that the smaller it is, the less bad things will be able to hide in it and come out to haunt me in one way or another," explained the boy, and somehow his explanation made complete sense to Harry.

The familiar feeling grew stronger the further they went into the alley, but once they walked out the feeling just disappeared. Styles ignored the lack of familiarity about this new place they were in, but Louis seemed to have decided that they would continue walking without a stop so he just followed him.

"What do you do, Louis?"

"I'm a student."

"What do you study?"

"I study psychology."

"That's a nice thing to study, I think," said Harry. "I'm taking a gap year, doing absolutely nothing before I spend the rest of my life first in a classroom and then in an office. Plus, my mom often tells me that it's better this way since she thinks I'm not completely ready to handle college yet."

"That's a strange thing to hear from a mother, in my opinion."

"She just wants what's best for me. She might not always know what's best for me, but she tries her best and she sure wants me to succeed in life. So, for now, I think I'll just listen to her and see where that brings me. And if the answer to that is nowhere, then at least I'll have fun until it lasts."

"So your life is fun?"

"Well, I wouldn't say its fun, but it isn't bad either," said Styles then saw Louis' puzzled expression so he decided to elaborate. "I just hang out with my friends or my sister and my mom, or I walk my neighbor's dog. And if they're busy, I can always watch a movie or count on music to cheer me up."

"I agree that your definition of fun is far more interesting than society's definition of fun. You at least have things to count on in every situation and don't have to be rich or famous to get those."

"Well, it would be kind of nice to still be rich or famous. Or maybe even both."

"The rich and famous have their own problems that we probably can't even imagine. I mean, try picturing going out and every single person wanting something from you, something that in most cases you can't provide."

Harry didn't want to say that what Louis had described was exactly how he felt most of the time. Strangers in the streets looked in either physical or mental pain and Harry wanted to, but had no way known to him of helping them. He could just look down and wait for the memory of that person to pass. Or he'd sit down and write something that described how he felt when he saw that person.

"I guess," answered Styles, not wanting to reveal everything about his personal life to this person who he still considered a stranger of sorts, even though a bond started to form between them.

"I'm not saying they have it better or worse. I'm just saying that being rich and famous just changes things for you and those changes are often pretty negative. That's all I wanted to say, I didn't want to harm your feelings or anything," apologized Louis, apparently not able to read his new acquaintance as well as Harry thought.

"It's okay, I know that everyone has their own problems. To be honest, I know that pretty well, but I don't want to bore you so let's just say that I know what you're talking about."

Louis turned to the left and Harry followed right after. The two continued walking, when suddenly Louis turned around and faced Harry. "You always hold that object in your pocket and it's too thick to be a phone and too small to be a book. What is it? If it's alright for me to ask, of course."

Harry knew that there was no point in lying to a random stranger in the street, so he decided to answer. "It's just a little diary of sorts that I write in every time I feel an emotion strong enough to make me unable to think of other things."

"So it's your diary?"

"No, it's not a diary, it's actually just a notebook, but I first bought it as a diary and it's small enough to fit into my pocket. That's mostly what I like about it. I don't like how the ink can sometimes get on the other side of the paper so the next page is ruined."

"If I asked politely would you ever let me read those?"

"I've known you for less than an hour. You're practically still a stranger to me and I don't want to share my personal thoughts with someone who is a stranger."

"But I think that we have some sort of connection and it would be stupid to just end all of this after tonight, don't you?" suggested Louis and Harry didn't know how to respond. Because of that Louis continued. "If ever you're here in the city again and need to just see anyone, I'm always here. I don't know if you want me to hang out with you, but if ever you're lonely and don't feel like counting on music and movies, I'll be here to help you out."

"That's nice of you," was all Harry could say, unsure of what he really wanted. He just knew that he didn't want to be alone.

"What do you want to do now?"

"I can show you some of what I wrote. Only if you want me to."

"I asked you to show me before and you said not yet. What changed?"

"I guess I did."

"Fair enough."

Harry pulled out the little diary he had been keeping in his right pocket and gave it to his new friend. "Pick any one of these you want to read. Just don't tell me if you hate it, I'm not great with criticism, even if it's constructive."

"Fair enough again," said Louis, grabbing the journal and flipping through a few pages.

Harry just stared at Louis while the latter read one of the poems. "What's the meaning of this one?"

"I guess it's about an imaginary person or something. I'm not sure I know myself."

"So, if it's about an imaginary person, is it about me?"

"What?" asked Harry, confused.

"I'm not real. I'm a fruit of your own imagination and you can't even see that."

"That's not true Louis."

"This is why your mom insisted that you had to take the pills. Does she even know you stopped taking them?"

"I- I don't-"

"Whatever," said Louis, giving Harry back his notebook. "Maybe try writing about something that's real next time. Or at least don't fall in love with someone who isn't real."

Harry looked down at the notebook and then back up at Louis who wasn't there anymore.

And at that moment, Harry Styles knew there was only one thing left for him to do.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm leaving the ending up to interpretations. i would also love to hear your thoughts, so if anyone has anything to tell me please do. and thanks for reading!


End file.
